


Let's Get Lost

by notyourbro



Category: Until Dawn (Video Game)
Genre: First Kiss, Fluff, Love Confession, M/M, Road Trip
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-23
Updated: 2016-02-23
Packaged: 2018-05-22 18:28:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,329
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6090058
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/notyourbro/pseuds/notyourbro
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Good things come from wrong turns.</p><p>AKA Chris and Josh embark on a road trip, and shenanigans ensue.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Let's Get Lost

**Author's Note:**

  * For [banhmi](https://archiveofourown.org/users/banhmi/gifts).



> this one's for [minh](http://banhmiboy.tumblr.com). HAPPY BIRTHDAY, FRIEND!!! thank you for your endless supply of amazing art, awesome AUs, and most importantly, memes.
> 
> idea credit for the last scene goes entirely to them - i just ran with it. if you want some sweet & inspiring background music for this fic, do yourself a flavor and listen to [these](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cppRxHfmY40) [two](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=I5Jr-wEluUo) songs.

**7:52 a.m.**

The bus rumbled to life. Hannah’s face appeared in the back window, quickly surrounded by the rest of Josh’s friends, and they waved at him until they turned around the bend and out of sight. The bus would take them to the airport, and they’d land in L.A. within the next few hours. 

Josh wouldn’t be home for two more days.

He slumped against the side of Chris’ shitty little car and moaned. “Remind me why we decided to drive to the lodge again?” 

“Because your bro’s fuckin’ broke,” Chris said. He flashed a grin. “And you love your bro.” 

“I must,” Josh muttered. Chris had called him as soon as he sent the first group message about their annual Blackwood trip, fumbling through an explanation that essentially boiled down to, _I can’t afford a plane ticket_. Josh offered to pay, but Chris insisted he didn’t want charity; Josh was equally insistent that Chris had to come, and they butted heads until this was their compromise. Chris drove, Josh chipped in for gas, and everyone got to go. Problem solved.

Josh might not like road trips, but he _really_ liked Chris.

He couldn’t help thinking about it as Chris struggled to open the trunk, pushing past layers of snow and ice to find the keyhole. Chris said, “Bingo” as soon as he did, and he jammed the key in. His brow creased when it didn’t turn, and he let out a heavy breath that was visible in the cold air. 

“Not bingo,” he said. “It won’t open.”

“Allow me, Christopher,” Josh said. He waved Chris aside and gave him a preemptive smirk of victory—except the key really _wouldn’t_ turn. Josh tried three times, his smirk dissolving. “Well, shit,” he declared finally. “It won’t open.” 

“Gee, thanks for the info,” Chris said. He smacked the top of the trunk and stared expectantly. Nothing happened. “Hmm. Kinda thought that would work.” He turned to their luggage, already coated in a thin layer of snow. “Well, it’s no big deal. All our shit fits in the trunk anyway.”

“Off to a rollicking good start,” Josh joked. Chris bent down to grab their suitcases and glared over his shoulder. 

“Your attitude is half the game, buddy.” He pushed a small suitcase into Josh’s stomach, and Josh took it reluctantly. 

“I’m pretty sure our fate rests with your car, not my attitude,” Josh said. Chris rolled his eyes. 

“Seriously, dude, we will be totally fine. And this will be totally fun. Don’t you trust me?” 

Josh’s gaze drifted from Chris to his car, and he raised his eyebrows. “It’s not _you_ I don’t trust,” he said.

Chris balked. “Excuse me—I’ve had Carla since I was sixteen, and she’s never let us down.” He patted her proudly and reached for the handle of the one of the back doors. Josh noticed his brow crease nervously as he pulled, but the door opened without protest. Chris’ expression relaxed, and he turned back to Josh. “See? Perfectly functional.”

Chris tossed his luggage carelessly into the backseat and gestured for Josh to do the same. They packed their things and squished themselves into Chris’ miniscule front seat. Josh’s knees bumped against the dashboard, and he compromised by tilting back his seat and lifting his feet onto the dash. Chris gave him a pointed look, and Josh pointedly ignored it. After a moment Chris coughed lightly, and Josh turned to him with an innocent expression. 

“Something in your throat?” Josh asked. 

“Shoes off, please,” Chris said primly. 

“Yes, sir.” Josh smirked again as he untied his laces, keeping his eye on Chris as he did. Chris acted like he didn’t know Josh was watching, but it showed in his movements. He fumbled with the GPS, and it slipped from his hands, bouncing off the center console and underneath Josh’s seat. Josh froze, hands still poised over his shoe. 

“Sorry,” Chris mumbled. He stretched across the console. His shoulder pressed against Josh’s, and the fur on his jacket hood brushed against Josh’s cheek. Josh turned his head and blew on it lightly. Chris’ cheeks reddened, and his arm moved more frantically. His fingers scrabbled around on the floor until finally Josh put his legs down. He bent in between them, squinting into the darkness underneath his seat, and pulled out the GPS.

“This what you’re looking for?” Josh teased, balancing it in his palm. Chris snatched it back. 

“Thanks,” he said quietly.

“Anytime.” Josh settled back in the seat, and Chris tapped at the GPS screen. An hourglass spun incessantly, and Josh said, “Dude, we’re still too high up to get any signal. We have to go down a little first, remember?” 

The GPS had lost satellite reception on their way up the mountain, and Chris had lasted about two seconds before flying into a panic. Josh calmed him down, telling Chris he knew the rest of the way—which was true, but he would have bullshitted his way through even if it wasn’t. He’d guided Chris the rest of the way, and Chris gripped the steering wheel with white knuckles until they reached Blackwood Pines. 

“Right,” Chris said. “I think I’d blocked that bit from my memory, but yeah. I remember now.” 

“I’ll get us down until it comes back on,” Josh said. Chris still looked a bit pale—well, paler than usual—and Josh reached over to pat him on the shoulder. “We’ll be totally fine, Cochise. Don’t you trust me?”

***

**9:37 a.m.**  
 **Group Message: The Sibs**

 **Hannah:** we made it to the airport!!! waiting at the gate and all that. how’s it going with chris??  
**Josh:** better now that the gps is working lmao  
**Beth:** kids and their gadgets...  
**Hannah:** back in MY day...  
**Josh:** wtf  
first of all i am older than both of u  
second of all arent u like sitting next to each other rn  
**Hannah:** across from each other, actually  
**Josh:** bc that makes a HUGE difference  
**Beth:** we just wanted to check in on our bro during his vast and dangerous trek thru the wilderness  
**Josh:** ugh  
**Hannah:** bet it’s nice to be stuck in small space with chris ;)  
**Josh:** UGH  
**Beth:** just kiss him omfg y’all are drivin me nuts w/ this  
**Hannah:** SMOOCH, SMOOCH, SMOOCH  
**Josh:** UGH!!!!!!!  
i hate u both  
have a safe flight  
**Beth:** love u too joshy  
**Hannah:** *whispers quietly* smooch  
**Josh:** BYE

***

**12:02 p.m.**

Carla was a noisy car, but sometime after they crossed back into the states, she made a guttural sound that was distinctly _not normal_. The gentle whirring that had lulled Josh into a restful state disappeared, and he lifted his head away from the window. 

“What was that?” he asked. 

“Uh…” Chris held a hand up to the vents, and his eyes widened. He jammed some buttons on the dashboard, but the noise didn’t return. “You have more coats in your suitcase, right?” 

“Exactly _why_ are you asking me that question?” 

“Our—um—our heat just died.”

“Carla’s heat just died? Carla the _perfectly functional_ car? Her heat is dead?” 

“I—this has _never_ happened before, I swear,” Chris said. He pushed some more buttons, more desperately this time, but Carla was resolutely silent. Chris made a small, sad noise, and then glanced at the GPS. His face lit up. “Hey, at least we’re not in Canada anymore.” 

Josh groaned. It might have been his imagination, but he swore he could feel the cold air seeping in through the cracks of the door. He twisted himself around and reached into the backseat. Unzipping Chris’ suitcase, he rooted around for extra layers, pulling out a few shirts and a thick, heavy sweater. They might not be in Canada anymore, but it was still the middle of January. 

“Can you grab something for me, too?” Chris asked. Josh turned back to the front, looking Chris up and down. Chris curled in on himself as much as he could and glared at Josh defensively. “It’s gonna get cold, dude. Sorry.” 

“Aren’t you already wearing, like, ten layers?” 

“Not on the bottom,” Chris explained. “I just need something to cover my legs.” 

“A dainty little blanket for your dainty little legs?” 

“Fuck off,” Chris said. His tone was light, and Josh knew he didn’t mean it; they said a lot of shit they didn’t mean, and they didn’t say a lot of shit that would mean something. Somehow, it had sustained them for almost ten years. 

Josh tossed a sweater at Chris’ shoulder, and Chris mumbled something about “endangering the driver” before laying the sweater across his legs. Josh righted himself in his seat again, and Chris raised his voice. “Also on the bright side,” he noted, “if the trunk opened, we would’ve had to pull over to get extra clothes. Now, they’re right here. Ain’t that convenient?” 

“Would’ve been more convenient if the heater didn’t crap out, to be perfectly honest,” Josh said. Chris pursed his lips, and Josh shucked his jacket off his shoulders. He pulled his sweater over his head, and replaced it with some of the layers he’d pulled from Chris’ suitcase. The shirt caught Chris’ eye, and he spared a glance away from the road. 

“Hey,” he barked, “are those my clothes?” 

“Yup,” Josh said. 

“Did I give you permission to wear my clothes?” 

“Have I ever _asked_ for permission?” Josh countered. 

Chris hummed, considering. “Fair point,” he said eventually. Josh continued dressing himself, piling on layers of Chris’ shirts. Chris’ gaze jumped to him every few seconds, and heat crept up Josh’s neck. 

“Eyes on the road, pal,” Josh chided. Chris tightened his grip on the wheel and swallowed; Josh smiled. He loved working Chris up like this, even if he had never brought himself to do anything about it. “Really, though, Chris,” he continued, “if you mind me wearing your clothes, I won’t do it anymore.” 

Chris obeyed Josh’s instructions, keeping his eyes firmly on the road. There was a long silence, and then Chris admitted, “I don’t mind you wearing my clothes.” 

Josh’s stomach flipped against his will, and he tried not to let it show on his face. “Good,” he said. He swapped his sweater for one of Chris’, just for good measure, and settled back against the seat.

***

**1:26 p.m.**  
 **Group Message: The Sibs**

 **Beth:** ayyyyy we have landed  
**Hannah:** back in good ole LA  
**Josh:** we are…….somewhere in the US  
i’m not really keeping track  
**Beth:** nice  
**Hannah:** unsurprising. any updates??  
**Josh:** well. the heater went out.  
**Hannah:** OMFG  
ARE U SNUGGLING FOR WARMTH  
**Josh:** ??????  
no chris is driving  
his teeth are chattering and its so fucking cute i hate this  
**Beth:** this is literally the perfect opportunity  
why are u not taking advantage of this  
**Josh:** what do u want me to do i dont even understand  
**Hannah:** the best way to prevent hypothermia is skin on skin contact I’M JUST SAYING  
**Josh:** PLEASE STO P  
**Hannah:** NEVER  
**Josh:** i havent even told u the best part yet  
**Hannah:** ?????????????  
**Beth:** don’t leave us hangin  
**Josh:** ………..  
i’m wearing chris’ clothes  
**Beth:** NICE  
**Hannah:** !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!  
this isnt even a new development and i’m still yelling  
**Beth:** same tbh  
hannah u gonna write some friendfic  
**Hannah:** we all know that’s ashley’s job  
**Beth:** omfg tru  
**Josh:** PLEASE TELL ME SHE HAS NOT DONE THAT  
**Hannah:** not yet  
**Beth:** but she will if u keep taking so fuckin long  
**Josh:** listen u gotta build the tension  
wooing is an art  
**Beth:** the tension has been built  
we are all drowning in it  
save us  
**Josh:** we’ll see  
**Hannah:** OOOOH…...cliffhanger!!!  
**Josh:** ;)

***

**3:44 p.m.**

“That truck has been following us for a long fucking time,” Chris said. He peeked into his rearview mirror, his face pinched with worry. 

Josh turned around. The truck _had_ been behind them for a while, but Josh hadn’t really noticed. “It’s the highway,” he said simply. “That happens sometimes.” 

“I know, but…” Chris shuddered. “I dunno. It’s weirding me out.” 

A thought sparked in Josh’s brain. “Have you ever seen _Jeepers Creepers_?” he asked.

“No,” Chris replied, “I think I’ve managed to avoid that one.” 

“Oh!” Josh said. He perked up immediately, sitting up straight in his seat. “Well, this brother and sister are on a road trip, right? Middle of fucking nowhere, barren country road, _no_ service. They see this creepy dude dumping what looks like a body in broad daylight, he _sees_ them seeing him—and then he immediately pulls onto the road into this big-ass truck to start following them. It’s so ordinary, but that shot of the truck pulling out is like— _so_ fucking scary. Because you think the daytime is safe, right? That monsters only come out at night? But then a crazed murderer starts following you in the middle of the afternoon and it’s like—well. Anyway. Just reminded me of that. We should watch it sometime.” 

Chris looked in the rearview mirror again, running a hand over his face. The truck was still behind them. “Now seems like a good time for a break, eh?” 

He flicked on the blinker and veered off the nearest exit.

***

**3:52 p.m.**

They pulled into the parking lot of a dumpy looking diner. Chris cut the engine and hopped out of the car, and Josh followed suit. He leaned his elbows on the roof and grinned at Chris, who was stretching and not-so-subtly scanning their surroundings.

“I think we lost ’em,” Josh said. 

“Shut up,” Chris said. “We’ve been in that car all day, and granola bars can only sustain me for so long. I needed a break.” 

“Sure,” Josh said. Chris was right, though; they’d only stopped once, for a quick bathroom break. Now that he stood up, Josh realized how sore he was. His joints popped as he raised his arms over his head, and his stomach growled as he surveyed the diner. “Shit, I am starving.”

“Now you feel me,” Chris said. He tossed his keys lightly into the air, but they slipped through his fingers, dropping onto the concrete with a loud _clack_. He scrambled to pick them up, stuffing them into his pocket. 

“Smooth,” Josh commented.

“I don’t know what you’re referring to.” 

“I’m referring to how smooth you are. Just in general.” 

“I don’t need your flattery. I’m well aware of how graceful I am,” Chris said. He pulled his hood up and stalked off toward the diner. Josh followed, grateful that Chris couldn’t see his smile. 

The diner was as crappy on the inside as it was on the outside, but at least the temperature was above freezing. The hostess led Chris and Josh to a booth, and they slid into it. Josh’s skin prickled with heat underneath his clothes, and he started shedding the layers one by one. Chris did the same, and by the time they reached the last few, each of them had built a small mountain of clothes on the seat. 

Josh kept Chris’ sweater on, and Chris bit his lip before burying himself in the menu. He surveyed the options for a moment before letting out a soft gasp. 

“Oh,” he said, “they have milkshakes.” 

“As does, like, every diner in the country,” Josh pointed out.

“Let’s get milkshakes,” Chris insisted.

Josh smiled. “Okay.” 

“No,” Chris corrected, “let’s split a milkshake. What do you want?” 

They spent so long debating flavors that by the time their waitress came over, they hadn’t even considered food options. They decided on an Oreo milkshake—the most elaborate flavor this place had—and then ordered a burger each. 

Josh handed their menus to the waitress and noticed an extra pen sticking out of her pocket. He looked at the cheap paper settings laid on each side of their booth, and an idea struck him. 

“Hey,” Josh said suddenly, “do you mind if I borrow that pen? I’ll give it back before we go.”

The waitress looked surprised, but she shrugged and handed it over. Josh thanked her, and Chris furrowed his brow. 

“What was that about?” he asked.

“You’ll see,” Josh said. He flipped his paper over to the blank side and went to work. Chris tried to watch, but Josh was a pro at covering his drawings. Chris grumbled until the milkshake came, properly distracting him. 

“If you don’t finish soon, I’m going to finish this entire milkshake,” Chris said.

“If you finish that entire milkshake, I will kick your ass,” Josh replied. “You’re the one who wanted to share.” He pulled himself away from the drawing and grabbed his straw. He took a long sip, keeping his eyes on Chris the entire time. Chris broke their gaze first, looking down, and Josh smacked his hand over the paper. “Nice try,” he said. 

Josh continued drawing while Chris scrolled through his phone. Normally Josh would have called him out on it, but Chris had only complained about the lack of wi-fi on the mountain once, and that had to be a new record. So Josh did his thing, and Chris did his. The silence was comfortable. 

“Did you know that you stick your tongue out a little when you draw?” Chris asked a few minutes later.

Josh hadn’t, but now that Chris mentioned it, he found it was true. He quickly closed his mouth. “I do now,” he said. “Does it bother you?” 

“No,” Chris said hurriedly. “I just—noticed.” 

“I thought you were on your phone.”

“I was on my phone,” Chris defended.

“Well, in any case,” Josh said, “I’m done, so no more tongue for you.” 

Chris flushed, but he seemed more eager than embarrassed. He propped his elbows on the table and leaned his cheek into his palm. “Show me,” he demanded. 

Josh unveiled his artwork. On the blank side of the paper, he’d drawn Chris, his body slumped against a wall. His decapitated head rested in the crook of his arm, and above it Josh had written, “CHRIS GET MURDERED (RIP).” Chris’ mouth hung open, and next to it was a dialogue bubble proclaiming, “Yikes!”

“I thought I’d provide an alternative ending to our little scare earlier,” Josh said casually. 

Chris pulled the drawing toward himself. He opened his mouth in a perfect mimicry. “This is…”

“The most beautiful thing you’ve ever seen?” 

“Something like that.” He studied the drawing. “I can’t believe you made my last word, ‘Yikes.’ I got _killed_ , Josh. Can’t you at least give me a good send-off?” 

“That would totally be your last word, though,” Josh said. “That or ‘zoinks!’” 

“One _fucking_ time,” Chris said, dropping a hand onto the table. “When will you let it go?” 

“Honestly? Never.” 

Their burgers came shortly after, and Chris folded the drawing. He placed it to the side, well outside the food’s reach. Josh had almost forgotten it by the time they were done, but as they got up to pay, Chris slid the paper carefully into his pocket. Josh watched him, and when Chris asked, “What?” Josh didn’t know what to say. He shrugged, and they got back on the road.

***

**6:13 p.m.**

It didn’t take long for Josh to drift. The temperature rose as they drove further south, but even if it didn’t, Josh had always been prone to sleep when he traveled. He once fell asleep on a train and rode it all the way to the end of the line; by the time he backtracked and made it home, it was nearly 4 a.m.

Traveling with Chris only made things worse. His car was a piece of shit and he was a terribly nervous driver, but something about it felt safe. Josh could close his eyes and feel confident that Chris would get him wherever he needed to go—even if Josh was a bit of a dick about it. 

The sun started to dip low in the sky, and Josh leaned his head against the window. The vibrations comforted him, and he tucked his legs underneath himself, closing his eyes. The road rumbled underneath them, and Chris hummed softly to a song on the radio. 

It was nice. It was peaceful. 

And then Chris turned on the Spice Girls.

Josh startled. “Dude, what the _fuck_?” 

“You looked a little tired over there,” Chris shouted over the music. “I thought you could use some... _spice_.” He held up a copy of _Spice_ and smiled proudly.

“Oh my God,” Josh said. “I thought this was on the radio. I thought you had an _excuse_.” 

“I do,” Chris insisted. “I wanna spice up your life.” 

“Please stop,” Josh said. Chris responded by singing a few lines of “Wannabe,” and Josh moaned. “I can’t believe you own this.” 

“I can’t believe you _don’t_ own this,” Chris argued. He shimmied his shoulders to the beat, tapping his hands on the steering wheel. Josh rubbed his temples, and Chris gave him a concerned look. “Oh, dude, I’m sorry. Is this seriously bothering you?” He put a hand on Josh’s leg. “Why dont you just….tell me what you want? What you really, really want?” 

“I’ll tell you what I want, what I really, really want!” Josh tried to say it angrily, but he cracked somewhere in the middle. He covered his mouth to hide his laughter, and Chris’ expression brightened.

“So tell me what you want, what you really, really want?”

Josh couldn’t let him down. “I really, really, really wanna—” He paused and sighed. “—zigazig _ah_.” 

Chris whooped. “ _Yes!_ Bro!” He held up his hand, and Josh high fived him, feeling more than a bit ridiculous. The song ended, and Chris hit the back button. “Alright, from the top.”

***

**6:31 p.m.**  
 **Group Message: The Sibs**

 **Beth:** yo its been like 5 hours  
have you been murdered on a desolate country road  
**Josh:** close, but not quite  
**Beth:** then wtf are u doin  
**Josh:** honestly??  
listening to the spice girls  
**Hannah:** IF U WANNA BE MY LOVAH  
**Josh:** wow. that was instantaneous.  
**Hannah:** if u ever need to find me in a crowd….  
**Josh:** i’ll keep that in mind  
anyway yeah  
this is happening i guess  
**Hannah:** this trip is even more beautiful than i imagined  
**Josh:** how do i know all these words???  
**Hannah:** bc literally the entire world does, but also bc me  
**Josh:** u are the culprit  
**Beth:** but look at this. now u are bonding.  
**Josh:** we are not bonding  
**Beth:** there is honestly no situation in which u could sing spice girls with someone and not bond  
**Hannah:** what song btw  
they all good but……  
**Josh:** um. all of spice  
just…...the whole thing  
**Beth:** *bonding intensifies*  
**Hannah:** omfg  
**Josh:** chris owns the album  
**Hannah:** kiss this boy  
**Josh:** i’m thinkin about it  
**Hannah:** WAAAAAAAAH  
**Beth:** *slow clap*  
**Josh:** we’ll see  
**Beth:** been sayin that a lot today  
**Josh:** i’m mysterious like that

***

**9:18 p.m.**

Lights swept over the car. This time, Josh didn’t sleep. He curled up in the seat, his head against the window again as his feet slowly inched their way across the center console. His socked toe bumped against Chris’ thigh, and Chris sighed. 

“Dude, if you want to lie down, just go in the back. Dump the luggage on the floor.” 

“I want to stay in front,” Josh protested. He raised one foot until it hovered inches from Chris’ face. “You don’t like this?” 

“ _No_ ,” Chris said, batting Josh’s foot away. “Get your nasty feet out of my face.” 

“You’re not into feet?” Josh pried. “It’s cool if you are. I won’t kinkshame.” Chris was about to say something else, but then Josh poked Chris’ cheek with his toe, and Chris jumped hard enough to jerk the wheel. A car in the next lane beeped, and Chris straightened out.

“I’m not playing, man,” he snapped. “If I die because of this, I’m gonna fucking kill you.” 

“You would never,” Josh said confidently, but he retracted his legs anyway. Chris relaxed, and they fell into another lull. Josh watched the streetlamps illuminate Chris’ features, and Chris tilted his head in Josh’s direction. The corners of his lips twitched up in a knowing smile, and Josh immediately turned away. He stared out the passenger window, thankful that the darkness hid the red in his cheeks. 

Before long Josh had the distinct feeling that someone was watching him, and he peeked out the corner of his eye just in time to see Chris turning back to the road. Something fluttered in the pit of Josh’s stomach, and it bloomed in his chest before he could tamp it down. 

“Hey,” Chris said suddenly, “I have an idea.” 

“Yeah?” 

“Let’s go somewhere,” Chris said. Josh gave him a quizzical look. 

“We’re going home,” he said. 

“I know _that_. I mean—let’s _go_ somewhere.” Chris reached forward to disconnect the GPS from the car, and the screen winked out. “Let’s get lost.” 

Josh blinked in surprise. “Whoa. Who are you and what have you done with Chris?” 

Chris laughed. He beamed at Josh, and Josh smiled back; neither of them hid it. “Are you down?” Chris asked. 

Josh had always poked fun at Chris for being so attached to his technology, but now that the GPS was actually off, the open road felt a lot more…well, open. Josh found it liberating and terrifying at the same time.

He nodded. “You know it, Cochise,” he said. He leaned back in his seat, they continued down the highway until Chris spotted a bridge and diverted to cross it. They emerged on the other side, and Josh noticed a wide dirt path veering off the main road. He pointed. “Go that way.” 

“One way ticket to Murder Town,” Chris said, but he turned anyway. They followed the path up and up, surrounded by thick woods on each side, until finally the trees broke open. They found themselves on a vast, grassy hill. The ground dropped off in a small cliff face, and below it sat the twinkling lights of a city. Chris pulled up to the peak and cut the engine. 

Silence hung heavy without the car’s noises; Josh heard Chris’ breathing as he looked out over the view. “Wow,” Chris said quietly. Before Josh could respond, Chris opened his door and got out. Josh followed suit.

It was cold still, especially in the dark. Chris tugged his hood up again and sat on the front of the car. When Josh didn’t move, Chris scooted to the side and patted the spot next to him. “Come sit with me,” he said.

“Are you sure Carla can take it?” Josh asked. He imagined the hood crunching under their combined weight as he sat. 

“Carla can take anything,” Chris assured. 

Josh didn’t quite believe him, but he sat down anyway. Carla creaked underneath him, managing to hold their weight. Chris’ gaze lifted upward, and Josh followed it. “That’s a hell of a lot of stars,” Chris said. 

“Nothing like the city of smog, huh?” Josh asked. 

Chris shook his head. “I like it,” he said decisively. “It’s nice.” 

Josh said, "Yeah," when what he really meant was _you're nice_. They watched the sky for a while, and then Chris turned back to him. 

“I’m sorry if this is, like, a giant pain in the ass for you,” he said. “Driving with me and all that. I could’ve just skipped the trip this year.” 

“Blasphemy,” Josh said. “Who else is gonna faceplant every time they walk outside? I need to find entertainment somehow.”

Chris chuckled. “I guess,” he said. A pause, and then, “I’m serious, though.”

“So am I,” Josh said. “I wanted you to come.”

“Why?” Chris asked. “Why was it such a big deal?” 

The words sat on the tip of Josh’s tongue, but he couldn’t say them. He shrugged instead. “I have my reasons.” 

“Oh, how _mysterious_ ,” Chris teased. “You know, I can be mysterious too. There are things you don’t know about me.” 

“Yeah?” Josh challenged. “Like what?” 

“Like…I’m super allergic to shrimp.”

“You seem to be forgetting that time you ate it at my parents’ New Year’s Eve party, and we watched the ball drop from the ER.” 

“Oh,” Chris said, looking genuinely disappointed. “I forgot about that.” He leaned back, pondering, and his hand came to rest a few inches from Josh’s. Josh moved his hand closer, and their skin touched. There was a long moment in which Josh was pretty sure he _could not breathe_ , and then Chris’ fingers moved slowly over his. They’d shared so many casual touches before, but this was different. This was electric. It hummed under Josh’s skin, and he focused on the city lights as Chris’ fingertips brushed over his knuckles. 

“I think I’ve got something,” Chris said.

Josh had already lost their thread of conversation. “What?” 

“Something you don’t know about me,” Chris clarified. He turned to Josh. “I—”

Josh didn’t let Chris finish his sentence; before he could think himself out of it, he leaned forward and pressed his lips against Chris’. Chris made a muffled noise of surprise against his mouth, and Josh pulled away. 

For once in his life, Chris seemed speechless. His mouth opened and closed, and then his gaze dropped to Josh’s lips.

And that was it. 

They met each other in the middle, and they kissed under a starlit sky in the middle of nowhere. Chris’ smile was so big he could hardly keep his mouth closed, and when they broke apart, Josh touched Chris’ lower lip with his thumb. 

“What are you smiling about?” Josh asked. “I totally interrupted you.” 

“I’d say that was a worthy interruption.” 

“Tell me what you were going to say.”

“I was going to say that I—really like you.” Chris paused, and then continued in a sing-song voice, “I really, really, really, really like you.” 

Josh raised his eyebrows. “Why does that sound—oh my God.” 

Chris’ face was completely serious. “I guess what I mean is…I want you,” he said. “Do you want me, too?” 

The look on Josh’s face must’ve been too much, because Chris cracked. He laughed loudly into the night, and Josh watched the moonlight catch on his glasses. “I have song that on my iPod,” Chris said. “Regret anything?” 

Josh reached for Chris’ jacked and pulled him close. “Surprisingly,” he said, “no.”

***

**10:48 p.m.**

Josh and Chris lay back against the hood, hands linked between them.

“We should probably get back to civilization,” Chris said.

“Fuck civilization.” 

“That’s very mature.” Chris yawned and rubbed his eyes with his free hand. “Seriously, I’m about to pass out. Let’s find somewhere to crash, okay?” 

Josh made a displeased noise, but Chris ignored it and sat up. He looked down at their hands, his thumb rubbing gently over Josh’s. 

“Are we taking this with us?” Chris asked. “To civilization?” 

“Do you want to?” 

Chris’ lips twitched in the beginning of another grin. “I really, really—”

“Okay,” Josh said quickly. He sat up too, holding up his free hand in a desperate plea for Chris to stop. “I get it. And I do, too.” 

“Good,” Chris said simply. He kissed Josh again, sending a tingle of warmth through Josh’s body, and they hopped off the hood. 

The car seemed smaller than usual after lying out under the sky, but Josh didn’t mind. Chris revved the engine, turned on the GPS, and led them back down the hill. Josh felt the weight of his phone in his pocket, and he pulled it out.

**Group Message: The Sibs**

**Josh:** FYI……i did it 

Hannah and Beth were almost certainly awake, but Josh didn’t wait for them to respond. He turned his phone off and tossed it into the backseat. Chris’ hand found his knee, and Josh scooted into the middle to lean his head on Chris’ shoulder. 

They still had a long way to go.


End file.
